The Way Things Are
by Troublesque
Summary: You get what you deserve when you push Superman's buttons on an off day.


Title: The Way Things Are  
Author: Zevllyn  
Words: 1,354 (count in story)  
Pairings: Superman x Batman  
Rating: M for implied situations  
Disclaimer: I don't own these hunks of superheros. (I don't think I could even _begin_ to explain all the things I'd have them doing.)  
Notes: Set after the episode "Injustice For All' as the JL returns to the Watchtower; after the whole ordeal of Copperhead biting Batman and the League's intervention (attempted, but as always, unnecessary rescue) from Lex's unorganized group of conjumbled villains.

* * *

"Have you _lost_ your mind?" Superman yelled as his fist bunched in the dark fabric of Batman's suit, their faces inches apart as his anger got the better of him as they stood in the loading dock, right off the ramp of the Javelin Seven.

J'onn phased out, disappearing into the floor to take the first round of watch up in the command center; Hawkgirl shook her head as Wonder Woman's wide questioning eyes glanced her way, jabbing her thumb in the kitchen's direction; and Green Lantern grabbed Flash by the back of his collar, dragging the whining boy out the nearest door from interrupting something he most definitely didn't have the common sense to stay out of.

"What part of _'No. You're staying here.'_ don't you understand?" Superman continued.

"Are you done yet?" Batman asked impassively, sighing in exasperation as he let the Man of Steel rant on.

"You're so _infuriating!_" He cried out, hands shaking as he dropped the black cape, fingers digging through his hair as if to tear out his skull as he took a step back before his arms shook open in front of him. "Why can't you just _listen_ for once?!"

Batman crossed his arms over his chest, expression still bored. "I'm listening now."

Blue eyes bled into bright red, glowing at the rims as he looked at the other man. "Damn it Bruce! That's not the point!"

His eyes narrowed at Superman's oh so casual outburst of his name, he trusted the original members of the Justice League, but he couldn't personally account for everyone else associated with them. He growled and stepped forward, finger pressing into the Man of Steel's chest even though it wouldn't do anything. "Watch yourself _Clark._" He growled as he ended their little tiff. "This conversation's over."

"Wrong." Superman said, reaching out and grabbing Batman by his wrists, preventing him from walking away. "I'm not done yet."

"_I _am." Batman responded, trying to tug himself away. "Let go."

"Not until you learn your lesson."

What happened in the next few seconds was a blur to Batman as he suddenly found himself in the black darkness of a room. Completely clean except for the two framed photographs on the nightstand next to the bed, he finally realized whose room he had just been thrown into. "You're kidding me…" Really? Reduced to kidnapping him, on the Watchtower? That seemed kind of pointless.

"Take off the suit." Superman said; his glowing red eyes the only light in the room besides the faint neon green of the alarm clock, the curtains drawn over the stars to block them out.

"And if I refuse?" As ridiculous as this was, he felt all the blood in his body draining south from that pure predatory look staring at him, even if they were both arguing with each other.

"We both know I have no problem removing it for you." He reminded.

Knowing the truth behind the subtle threat, Batman raised his glove covered hands, fingers unclasping the fastens that held the cape to his person, letting it fall to the floor. He grasped at the yellow utility belt and with a click, he held it out beside him before releasing that as well. He started at the bottom of his torso, rolling the specialized Kevlar material up and off his body, throwing it down, startled for a moment as angry red eyes appeared closer to him. Batman opened his mouth to say something but was unable to as hot lips claimed his own, his short gasp echoed into Superman's mouth as the Kryptonian grabbed his hips and forcefully pulled him closer, a knee wedging between his legs.

Discarding his gloves, his bare hands clenched Superman's shoulders as they slammed into the wall, the dark cowl ripped from his head to land somewhere. His toes barely touched the ground, as he fumbled for some sort of leverage besides practically sitting on the leg between his own, the Man of Steel's fingers digging painfully into his sides, leaving red crescent-shaped moons in their wake. "Clark—" He groaned as hips pushed into his and teeth tugged harshly on his lower lip.

"Shut up." Superman growled. "For once in your life, do what you're good at Bruce and _shut up."_

In the next moment Bruce found himself splayed on the bed, his pants being yanked off his hips and Clark's suddenly equally naked body pressed down on top of him, lips once again on his. He squirmed against the body above his own, snorting in a small victory when Clark let out a grunt before he threw his head back in pleasure as their arousals rubbed against each other, Clark's mouth leaving a trail of nips and kisses along his skin.

This was how the World's Strongest Man coped. After a day that would end in victory, sometimes they were able to get a little time to themselves afterwards and it was always soft and sweet; all the other times were things didn't go as planned, it was rough and brutal. And Bruce was more than willing to help him in any way possible to return the favor for being such the wondrous 'Super Friend' – as Clark often put it. But the promise of keeping a professional relationship outside of the bedroom always stood first.

His back arched as Clark entered into him, the harshness of the actions undoubtedly told him that today was a day that the Man of Steel was rather angry, but he let it slide because Bruce knew he was the one at fault this time. The euphoria of impending release quickly washed over him as Clark continued to thrust forward into his sweet spot, hips grinding in a circle, Bruce's arms flexing helplessly underneath the restraints of the man's strength. Breathing heavily he rocked his hips up, waiting for that one last push to send him over the edge.

Clark's teeth bit down where shoulder met neck, his tongue laving against the copper taste that flooded his mouth, relishing in the addicting sounds that slipped past Bruce's lips and the hot stickiness that suddenly coated his stomach. Pulling out of Bruce's body, he reached down to finish himself off, only for his body to convulse as the Dark Knight's hand was already there, completing the job for him and adding to the mess on their bodies. He rested for a moment, his face buried into Bruce's neck as he regained his senses.

"That venom almost killed you." He repeated the same statement from earlier in the day as he flopped to the side, his hand slipping from the wrist he held to grasp at fingers, squeezing softly. "We almost lost you."

He scoffed. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

Clark rolled his eyes in the dark. "You can never just sit still either."

A smile graced Bruce's lips. "You know me so well."

"Sometimes I wish I didn't." He let out a small laugh, shifting to his side as he reached out to Bruce's face, making him turn his head to the side, his eyes seeing the mark along with the trail of blood where he had bitten the man. "Are you alright? I didn't mean–"

"It's fine," He said as he pushed himself up, cringing at the slight throb in his backside. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Of course." Clark's hand held Bruce's as the latter slipped from the bed, his lips brushing a soft kiss over the exposed knuckles. As usual, Bruce gathered up his discarded clothes, he slipped his pants back on, making sure his cowl was in place if only long enough for him to slip from this room and into his own, leaving without a sound.

"Goodnight Batman."


End file.
